The sweet and cuddly Heather I used to be

I didn't sleep well last night.  Ron was verbally abusive. 

His "thing" if you can call it that, is that I "fail" somehow and therefore "deserve" it.  If he feels hurt (often), or that I'm acting "stupid", then he can unleash anything in his arsenal. 

I actually told him today: I can only believe you love me for so long.  One too many "Stupid f*ucking b*tches" and I stop believing in your "love".   I didn't say this, but it's like the Bible says: blessing and cursing cannot proceed out of the same mouth.  Pretty soon I stop hearing it because it's so hateful and I stop hearing anything you say.  Before I stop valuing anything you say. 

This is what he doesn't get.  I'll "take" it, but I'll put up walls, and I'll stop hearing you.  Suddenly I'm not the sweet and cuddly Heather I used to be.  Duty and loyalty have replaced love and affection, and I wonder sometimes what I ever saw in him. 

Ron, that's a real bad place to be in your marriage.  He should be sweating bullets and worried sick. 

Thank God I am very leery of other men.  I don't want to be a cheater.  I won't be a cheater.   

His answer to what I was able to convey (not much because he freaks out, goes into shouting mode, and starts cursing at me) "What do you want?" 

Huh? 

"If I could buy anything for you, what would you want?"  Well, the only thing I can think of are some new hoses for the washer.  The cut off valves for them still work (I checked today), so we can just turn them off, attach the new hoses, and turn them on again.  I just have to make sure they are connected correctly because I think they are reversed. 

Rubber hoses can burst and I really try to avoid drama at all costs in my life. 

Ron was happy to hear about this.  Good, a project. 

I also mentioned the cut off valve for the refrigerator ice maker water line, which is currently frozen in the "on" position.  So far, not a problem.  Could be a big problem one day.  Worst case I will pay to fix that out of my own money. 

I don't want to eat up our savings on home repair if I can avoid it, and the fridge has already cost us $350. 

Ron wasn't worried about the water line, but did agree to help me fix the washing machine hoses.  That isn't what makes me love him.  He doesn't get that. 

I love him when I see him lying in bed with my cat, and the cat is so very happy, he's petting her, she's slitting her eyes at me and purring.  That makes me love him.  Not what he buys. 

I really love him when I make a mistake and he is kind about it, instead of giving me the usual tirade and name calling.  I love him when he makes an effort to go somewhere with me instead of languishing at home in bed. 

A couple times recently Ron has basically thrown me at our friend and driver.  "Go shop for refrigerators with him"  "Go do this with him".  "Go to Walmart with him".  It's like he wants me to act as though I'm married to the other guy, while still living with, and working for, him.  I don't get that at all. 

I know he has a "script" about women leaving him and I can see how it could start.  Verbal abuse, push her at another man, then act all shocked and angry when she connects to him. 

While I like this guy, appreciate his efforts to help us, and respect him, I have no romantic interest in him.  None at all. 

Outside of work, I have very limited interaction with other men.  At work, it's all business.  The other vendor's guys, the customers, management, I have strict scripts for all of those roles. 

Outside of work can be vaguer, so I tend to hold back more.  With FAS, bipolar, and the parenting I got, "normal" is often a baffling struggle. 

Anyway, I got up early.  Biscuit got in my lap and did his adorable thing.  He was so cute and he even let me hug him.  I gave him his num-num and took my shower.  I had a headache.  Ron was adamant, he wasn't going to Walmart. 

He threw money at me and told me to take a cab, then arranged for our driver to pick me up, because cabs hate Walmart pickups. 

I got there early.  In Houston, it seems, in my area at least, I have two flavors of cab drivers, the muslim, or the African.  Sometimes both.  Today it was a muslim guy but he was nice enough.  Not super chatty but that was fine. 

All morning at Walmart, I kept hearing people ask about Ron.  I said his arthritis was bad so he stayed home.  They seemed to miss "us".  We can be pretty cute with him in the kiddie cart, and I find it fun, but Ron doesn't anymore, apparently, and stayed home with Torbie. 

He sent me an angry text saying he knew I wouldn't give the driver money for alcohol.  I called him back, laughing, a while later.  "You know better, Ron.  You know I would never do that."  I guess God kind of laid it on me to make it a joke.  Ron did laugh and whine at the same time. 

I just don't see why any single person needs four bottles (big ones) of vodka all at one time.  Maybe he is trying to save on "cab fare".  The driver took Ron's discount card and even queried about case prices.  I wanted to tell him he is playing with fire.  Ron drinking is not a safe thing. 

 Recently, I was relating (upon request), Ron's behavior while drunk.  "Why didn't you help me off the floor?" he asked.  "Because you hit me" I replied. 

For once, he had no response.  He asked me how many times I had tried to help him, and been attacked.  "Several". 

"Oh, well, leave me alone then."  Yeah, I don't need someone to tell me to do that. 

So I did my shopping (heavy on the cat food, light on the people food), bought some drink mix, etc.  I checked out. 

I was in line for the bank when Ron told me he had invited the handyman over to fix the door leading to the garage.  At some point, this door was kicked in.  I may take a photo to show you.  It was glued back together but has always had problems closing. 

I made my deposit and went back into the store to buy some drinks and snacks for the handyman. 

Then I got something to eat - I didn't eat it, I just got it to eat later.  I ate half a sausage biscuit while waiting on the driver to show up and then I loaded the truck. 

The cat litter wasn't as much of a problem as the Gatorade.  That was heavy.  Canned cat food, no big deal, Vet would be so proud of me for feeding them canned (even though they don't eat a lot). 

We got home, I unloaded and put the drinks in the fridge.  Which is still working, by the way.  I am suspicious, though.  I keep expecting trouble. 

No time for a nap today, but that may work out OK because I have to get up at 2 AM for work tomorrow.  Hopefully I will be tired enough to "conk out" and get a good rest. 

Greg (the handyman) came out and did his thing with the door.  It wasn't cheap but we have a new door and it wasn't much trouble to hang.  He took all the old trim off and got a prehung door.  Then he just had to shove it into the hole and mount it.  I think.  I am not a door installation expert. 

He will also work on the gate, tomorrow.  Good.  That will get the homeowner's association off our backs.  I don't want to get into their bad graces. 

I just pray I can get a good night's sleep tonight.  I am running pretty low on my battery. 

I miss Torbie.  She's been sleeping with Ron lately. 

Older, wiser, more bitter

Busy day. 

I know it's an interesting one when I'm standing in my kitchen, talking to an ex-Navy repairman as he disassembles my freezer, talking cats. 

I woke up with an awful headache.  I took my shower and did my God Time later. 

I drank 2 Diet Mountain Dews.  I knew we had to do "truck day" in addition to everything else. 

I also took some OTC headache pills.  My hands were shaking all day. 

I went through my cards and picked one out for a newly widowed man at work.  He is a liaison between us and the plant, and gets to "boss us around" as a result.  Things have been a little strained at times, but, dude, his wife just died. 

I didn't have any condolence cards (I think I got rid of them, thinking, "No one ever dies around here"), but I found a "praying for you in hard times" card I felt would work. 

You know what?  It was a lot better than NO card. 

I stuck that in my purse and went to the warehouse.  I forgot my cell phone.  Ron was Not Happy.  I don't know if it's the head injury or what, but he needs to remember what is important.  I forgot my cell phone.  That won't matter tomorrow, much less a year from now. 

I try to save my energy for the big things. 

We just had a "discussion" and I agreed to stow my phone in a different place to make it "easier to remember".  The honest truth, I slept horribly, I woke up with an agonizing headache and horrible depression.  I'm lucky I remembered my bra. 

We went to the warehouse, no water so I got other drinks and a few snacks I needed. 

We went to work.  They were having a "Town Hall meeting".  Productivity is up!  Yeah, team!  Get out of my way!  I had a hell of a time fighting my way through the crowd, unloading my carts, and getting them outside.  Then I loaded them and brought them in. 

They had a huge line of tables blocking access to our stockroom.  It was a very difficult stock.  I was glad when they all left. 

Normally, I am happy to have customers around but I needed a break. 

I wish they had given us more notice about the meeting, so we could have taken pains to avoid it.  I mailed the card. 

We finally finished all that.  For some reason, Ron called our driver to take us home, which meant we could get some fast food on the way home. 

I got home and took a nap, but a short one.  It was unusually satisfying.  I got up around 2, and locked up the cats for the repairman. 

The repairman came around 3.  I could see him checking out the cat and half-marathon photos on my fridge before he got to work.  Ron sat on his walker and "looked pitiful" on command. 

The guy was very nice, very competent, very honest, an ex-Navy guy who had 4 cats of his own.  He told me all about them as he worked.  One of them is semi feral. 

I told him a little about our gang while he worked. 

First thing he told us the other guy did a very poor job.  "He didn't even look on the inside".  He showed us a frozen water line and thawed it.  He did more work. 

It took, it just made ice for the first time in a while. 

He said the cut off valve is "frozen" and will have to be replaced by a plumber.  I would like to do that ASAP but Ron isn't in as much of a hurry. 

Oh, for the old days of apartment living when we just called the office for repairs. 

Ron's been verbally abusive all day, including now.  The way he talks I am - I don't even know.  The worst thing that ever happened to him, I suppose. 

Who takes care of the coffee vending machine? 

He just said I'm "Getting a free ride".  I pay for everything I get and it's completely selfish to say otherwise.  I didn't react because otherwise he will keep throwing it at me ad infinitum. 

He did a bunch of weird psychology crap when we first got together.  He knew just enough to be dangerous.  He "named my depressive behavior" as this "part of my personality" and said "She came out" etc... weird.  Anyway, he was lamenting the fact he never sees [personality name], how "she" was so soft and [vulnerable] and "cried all the time", why can't I be like that again.  I am "tough" and "never cry anymore" (not that he sees) etc.  Basically lamenting the loss of control of this "so called personality". 

What kind of man says "I want you to cry all the time like you used to [because you were depressed, weak and easily manipulated]"?

By the way, I have NEVER been diagnosed with multiple personalities.  He just basically "created" personalities out of single emotions.  I am happy so I am "___"  I am sad so I am "the one he was missing", etc.  He was also very into "transactional Analysis" which basically broke the human personality into 5 parts.  So, each part had to have a name, as far as Ron was concerned, etc. 

Just a bunch of, as I said, really weird crap.  If I had had any other option at the time, I would have taken it.  It was all about the manipulation and control of Heather. 

Now I'm older, wiser, and more bitter.  I don't fall for cheap manipulations like [eye roll, sigh]  "What's wrong?"  "It doesn't matter, you wouldn't care."  These days I don't even respond to the eye roll and sigh. 

Ron told me, when we got together, I was "so great" because "I wasn't bitter" (and clever) like older women (in their 30's).  I see what he meant, now.  He wanted someone he could feel superior to, someone he could manipulate and control. 

I'm not that person anymore.  My illness, his drinking, and his accident have forged a very different person.  I think I am the better for it.  I need to work more at forgiveness, if anything. 

I'm just feeling tired and unappreciated because I did all this, this whole horrible day, with a nasty headache and all he said to that was "Good!" joking, of course. 

Who jokes about that? 

I'm not asking him to cancel everything, just don't call me a bitch today. 

Please. 

30 inch

Torbie is virtually completely healed up.  She has a small scar on top of her foot, lost a little "mass" over one claw - actually lost a large, ugly, mass that was a benign something-blastoma.  She is walking fine, and has a small pink scar with a tiny scab. 

She has been hanging out a lot with Ron.  He spends most of his time in bed, so she lays down next to him. 

Biscuit sleeps with me sometimes, generally when I'm taking a nap or something.  He likes to sleep at the bottom of the bed, to my left.  That's generally a pretty safe zone for cats.  Torbie hasn't been sleeping with me, she's been more into Daddy lately. 

Baby Girl is her own cat, but is currently in my TV chair - she also likes to sit on Ron's walker.  She only ever slept with me once, the night Bubba died. 

The fridge.  Is giving me spasms.  I forget if I wrote what happened yesterday.   The guy came out and said the icemaker line had come out of the back of the fridge, he could look for a kit or attempt a repair with a couple of screws.  They don't make the kit and he swore that the screws would work. 

They worked for about an hour, before I heard a loud pop and water again.  It's clearly the ice maker line.  I just don't know if it's repairable. 

Oh, and Ron can't cut off the water valve to the icemaker either.  He was pretty clear on that.  I couldn't get my hand in there and I am not known for strong hands these days.  My hands have been shaking all day, for instance. 

I slept very badly last night, as a result.  I even had a triumphant dream in which we turned off the valve, only to awake to the reality we can't. 

What does that mean if we have to buy a new stove?  I mean fridge?  I don't know.  I could worry a lot about that, too. 

Now I'm also worried about my washer hoses.  I would hate for one of them to burst.  I don't know if the cutoffs work either.  I'm scared to try. 

I just want a home without things leaking on the floor.  I'm not feeling like I have that, right now. 

I am being super strict with my caffeine because that will just make it worse. 

So, we had today off.  I slept in until about 8 and got up.  I took a shower and did my God Time, and watched some Supernatural - the "Dean-mon" episodes. 

Remember the whole litter box drama?  Baby Girl was pooping out of the box, so I got unscented litter, 2 inches deep, and everyone is crazy for it?  Well, that box was pretty pissy smelling even with me scooping it every day.  I dumped it out and washed it.  Ron had a lot to say about the smell of the disinfectant.  I let it soak a while and rinsed it well, letting it air dry. 

I made sure not to use the piney disinfectant, as that can be bad for cats, I read.  This was Lysol lemon. 

When I finish the blog, I will see if it's dry and fill it up again.  They really seem to like it a lot and use it as their primary box. 

"Someone" - don't know who, had the runs in the other box but I got that cleaned up too.  And I gave them all their Advantage.  It's a little early (a few days) but they are very itchy.  I have seen a few fleas in the computer room, too. 

Ron called GE appliance and they do repairs, so he is having their guy come out tomorrow.  He wanted to go to Sears and look at their fridges.

As it turns out, we only have a 30 inch space, which really limits our selection.  I found one that looked "fine" even though it doesn't have the little cheese drawer I'm accustomed to.  It is more spacious and would be a fine fridge, I'm sure. 

I hold out hope we can "turn off" the water line to the icemaker, and just run the current fridge without the icemaker.  We can always use ice trays.

Ron is also making noises about keeping it and putting it in the garage.  That would be a lot of cleaning for me if he did that. 

None of this, of course, is helping my depression, but that's not "their" job - to make me less depressed.  My job is just to juggle everything as best I can. 

Tomorrow we go back to work and do that, but it's been pretty quiet.  I will do what I can and help Ron as best I can. 

I just want to get all these issues settled so I can relax! 

A nap with Biscuit

I slept, without cats, and woke up exhausted.  I thanked God for caffeinated beverages as I drank a diet soda, wondering if, in fact, the caffeine is what's messing up my sleep. 

I don't know the answer to that. 

I was happy Ron had scheduled the refrigerator repair so I could get a nap.  He doesn't understand why I need one every day but I am exhausted on my medication. 

I worry an employer will read that one day. 

Anyway, I got up, took care of business, and went to work.  I took care of the coffee, snack, and food vending machines.  I got the sandwich delivery.  I, basically, did it all. 

Ron got angry because he called for me and I told him my hands were full, I couldn't help him (at that moment).  He expects me to be available, to drop everything, when I am at work even though that means leaving other things undone.  I have done my best to manage both but at times I have to tell him "NO", like when my hands are full, or I am working on the coffee machine. 

I'm not going to say I'm sorry for that.  I can either fill the machine, or help him.  I try to do both but sometimes I can't. 

He didn't call me names but he got pretty ugly.  In front of a very bored audience.  I just wish, once, someone would tell him to treat me with respect.  When I do it, he doesn't. 

We came home.  We had to ride the freeway near a guy who had an overloaded rental truck, with a bunch of folding mental handcarts strapped on the back with yellow tie-downs.  He (?) was driving in a very reckless manner, it made me very uncomfortable. 

I thanked the driver for staying back.  Normally, in Houston, tailgating is an Olympic-level sporting event.  I have ridden in cars that were literally up the bumper of the car in front of them.  Had the car in front of us stopped, we would have rear ended them. 

But today's driver stayed back at a cautious distance.  Good.  I could just see that tie-down snapping and metal hand carts flying everywhere. 

Once, I actually saw a BBQ grill (not tied down), fly out of the back of a pickup in an ashy cloud and collapse all over the freeway.  It almost caused a wreck.  The driver seemed pretty oblivious, or maybe he was just trying to escape the scene of the crime. 

We got home.  I set my alarm and took a nap.  I was pretty cold during my nap but Biscuit joined me.  I always enjoy sleeping with a cat. 

I got up, ate some pizza, did my God Time, and politely refused a potential fridge repairman.  Ron had cancelled with him. 

I got dressed (I was wearing my bathrobe) and told Ron I should put up the cats, but he said they would call first.  They didn't, but he was very nice about waiting while I rounded everyone up and locked them in the bedroom.  The repair guy, no matter who he is, always needs to get something out of the truck.  Always. 

He came in and had a look at it.  The water line had come out of the back of the freezer (we have an icemaker).  He did some research to see if he had the part, but they don't make it anymore.  It is an older unit (at least 12 years old).  He screwed it back in.  Something else started to misbehave but he got that going, too. 

So far, so good.  I keep expecting to hear a loud POP and water everywhere, but so far nothing out of the ordinary. 

It is amazing when I think about how many things could/can/do go wrong in my life. So many pieces, assuming they will all work, until they don't.  I could have a good anxiety over that if I let myself. 

So, that's done, and he didn't hose us on the repair.  If something else goes wrong (and it's not cold anymore) I think we will just buy a new fridge, because they don't make the parts anymore and the repair could get prohibitive. 

For now, it's cold.  Even if the icemaker stops working we can just turn off the water at the wall outlet and use ice trays.  We don't use that much ice, anyway.  

We have tomorrow off, it's supposed to rain pretty hard.  We'll see if the weather guys got it right. 

A trip to the mall

Ron was pretty unrepentant when he woke up.  Said he knew he had had a blackout and didn't seem to care. 

He did, however, say he really wanted to go to the mall "Or we would go some other time this week".  I said no, we could go to the mall today.  He had already cancelled the trip - well, don't wake me up at 5 AM and ask me if I want to go somewhere. 

Anyway, we took a cab there and tried the chicken at the Japanese place.  He has been very disappointed in the sauce of late and felt it ruined the whole meal.  He had been addicted to the teriyaki, buying a couple meals at a time and then freezing them, paying someone to take him to do this, which I felt was wasteful. 

I didn't say anything, though.  He accuses me of being "controlling" and trying to dominate him, ironic because he does just that to me. 

Anyway, it was still "terrible".  He wanted to talk to the manager, but the manager does not speak English and they had nearly 20 people lined up.  I told him it was a bad time, if he wanted to talk to the manager we should go on a weekday afternoon.  I also mentioned my certainty the manager would not be changing anything based on the conversation, and probably wouldn't admit they changed the sauce at all. 

Then he wanted burritos at Taco Bell, so we went there.  I got a slice of pizza and ate that, then took my medication.  Good, that's done. 

Ron wanted to go to Sears and look at the refrigerators.  I decided I liked the black ones better.  I don't like stainless steel and our white one has gotten pretty dirty. 

If we get one with an icemaker, it runs about $500-$600.  We have a pretty narrow space so that eliminated the high-end ones, assuming I wanted one to begin with.  I just want something to keep my food cold and make some ice now and then. 

However, the one we have is working pretty well, and, safe to say, any repair is going to cost us well below $500-$600.  I would just fix the old one before I bought a new one. 

Some people don't.  That's their choice, but overall we have never had any serious problems with the fridge so I'm happy to keep it. 

We finished up and went back.  The mall was chaos and very, very, loud.  My hands were cramping from pushing him as he sat on the walker and no one got out of the way.  They expected us to go around them.  Ron's walker has lousy steering.  I bumped into a couple people as a result. 

It mainly seemed to be affluent latinos, blacks, and some middle-easterners, with the odd Asian thrown in.  I didn't see a lot of white people, not that I cared. 

We have a pretty good case of white flight in our area, they all go out past 1960 as far as they can, to get away from the "bad influences".  Some neighborhoods, like Garden Oaks, closer to town, remain white enclaves but have $300K price tags.  Midrange neighborhoods, like my own, are pretty evenly split between black and latino.  

Well, the fridge is leaking again so I found a repair company for Ron to call.  Let's hope we can get a quick, cheap, and lasting fix on it, whatever it is. 

"Where are my pants?"

I wonder how many hungover people have asked just that question, some of them waking up in strange places. 

Ron was pretty obnoxious last night but saved the verbal abuse for God.  I do find it amusing he called God a M-F-er.  I mean, Jesus and all. 

He got angry at me one point, looking for the toilet.  Happily, he did not consider anything to be the toilet, that wasn't, he just couldn't find it.  It must be hard to be very drunk, blind, and head injured, crawling around on the floor, looking for a toilet you can't find. 

I verbally directed him, left, go straight, go right, he got it.  Then he fell off the toilet after he finished and knocked a bunch of cleaning products into the bathtub. 

He found his bed, cursing and screaming at God for a while, then passed out. 

I slept OK.  Surprisingly.  I "went under" but had nightmares about him dying.  I'm not stupid, he's killing himself. 

This morning he woke me up asking for his pants.  I told him he took them off, I didn't know when.  He is wearing them now so he found them. 

Now he wants to go out.  We'll see how that goes. 

I just wish he would only ask me "Where are my pants?" because I have put them in the washer. 

"Help getting to bed"

Occasionally the paratransit company will "send" a ride to the cab company.  An independent driver "takes" it, shows up, takes us to our destination, and fills out a little paperwork.  They get paid. 

However, a lot of the drivers who take these trips play games.  More than once, we have gotten a phone call from the driver "I'm far away, is that OK?"  No, it's not OK.  Not only do we have an appointment to get to our destination, which you agreed to when you clicked "accept", we have an appointment to be picked up again and taken somewhere else, later.  If you get us there late we don't have enough time to conduct our business and everything goes to hell. 

We found just this scenario this morning, except the guy said he was downtown, a good 45 minutes away.  Then he "performed" the trip and printed up the receipt so he'd get paid.  The problem: he hadn't even picked us up yet. 

"What, you called them?" he exclaimed when he found out we had done just that.  Well, yes, we have to get to our destination at a certain time so we can be ready for our next trip.  The he had the audacity to say "I'm going to tell them I already dropped you off, OK?  Just tell them I already dropped you off if they call." 

"We're not going to do that" I replied "Because you haven't dropped us off."  After a phone call to dispatch, where he lied and said he had dropped us off (stupid because the cabs have GPS "tattlers").  I was just so, completely, disgusted. 

I didn't even care when they told him (apparently) he wouldn't get paid.  I assume he was telling the truth, and hoping we would pay him instead.  No, you lie, you defraud the program, you treat the client like crap, and then you want to get paid? 

"He looked" our (other) driver said "as though he were angling for a tip, but you did everything with the walker yourself". Damn straight I did. 

We are not required to tip the contracted cab driver, although we usually do if they are professional.  Not today! 

I put Ron in the vehicle with "our" driver, who, not surprisingly, was already there.  I went in and got Ron's drinks.  He was very angry I "had" to get coffee and told me to get 10 bags, which I did.  I now have 25 pounds of gourmet ground coffee, in my stockroom.  I had a hell of a time placing it, too. 

I didn't get snacks because Ron was impatient and wanted to go to the other store, as the first one didn't have water.  We looked, it didn't either, but I did get my snacks there. 

We went to work, I unloaded and stocked.  Two "suits" were telling a custodian how to do her job and she wasn't taking it very well.  They now have a "new" policy where certain things must be done in certain time frames.  If they are not done in the time frame, they get in trouble, but I don't think they are giving them enough time.  We'll see.  It was, supposedly, supposed to "improve" service, but maybe just to crack down on the "slackers".  I don't know.

I do know it never fails.  I work all day with no break.  I sit down and Ron is working.  Someone comes along and makes a comment.

We came home, I took a nap.  When I got up I did my God Time (not sleeping well at nights). 

Ron is very drunk, lying on the kitchen floor, very confused.  He thinks he is in his bed and looking for his pillow.  He is screaming at God and cursing him. 

It doesn't look good for a quiet night of sleep for me, tonight.  He keeps bellowing about his pillow and falling on the floor. 

I don't usually help him because he can get combative, however, I was moved to at least ask if he wanted "help getting to bed".  He said no and is sitting on the floor by the laundry room, now. 

What a day. 

A lot about a bag of pretzels

Ron had a tantrum today and threw my bag of pretzels on the floor. 

Why?  I was "rushing" him to "get out of the kitchen". 

I am conditioned to say "I'm sorry, but".  No, I'm NOT sorry, there was water all over the floor and I needed to clean it up.  The condenser pan for the fridge apparently overflowed.  He wanted to ignore it, sit on his walker, and drink vodka, I simply asked him to "please move so I can get on with the cleanup".  He then said he was "tired" of holding my pretzels, and would "put them on the floor" if I didn't get them that second.  I was busy mopping. 

So, he threw them on the floor.  Why?  Because he could, and he wanted to have a tantrum because I was getting between him and his vodka. 

Years ago, Ron was complaining that his vodka was "disappearing".  He was also having blackouts.  I think he even accused me of drinking it.  I told him, I see you drinking out of that bottle late at night.  I think you are drinking when you are already drunk and having blackouts as a result.  It is hard for you to walk.  Why don't you put it in the kitchen where you have to work to get it? 

That has had mixed results.  Mainly, he parks himself in the kitchen and drinks, gets sloshed, then staggers back to his bedroom.  When he's "parked", he gets very cranky if I ask him to move.  As seen today.  He has also passed out, on more than one occasion, in the kitchen. 

Ron wanted to "surprise" me, so he made a trip to go to a BBQ place that serves breakfast. We had a pretty good time, although Ron kept talking about pork ribs, BBQ, and Jesus (in that order) to the driver, who was clearly a muslim, on the way home.  Awkward. 

When I told him (after we got home) he didn't care.  He made a very rude response. 

I took a short nap but some noise kept waking me up.  I think it might have been #6.  It sounded like the door opening and closing, "like" 20 times.  When I woke up her car was gone, so maybe.  I just found that odd. 

Ron had made a trip to Walmart.  Now, I would have gone out to eat and then gone straight to Walmart, but Ron was worried about digestive issues (which never came to pass).  He wanted to go home, and then leave again. 

I wanted to get it all over with and then get a long nap, but I didn't get that. 

Basically, Ron got what he wanted and I didn't. 

When I got up, Biscuit was sleeping with me.  I had a hard time getting up, he is such a sweet boy. 

I did my God Time.  I hadn't done it this morning because I had trouble sleeping last night. 

After that, we went to Walmart and got my medication.  They didn't have all of it.  They also made me talk to the pharmacist, who freaked when she saw what I was taking.  I told her I had been taking it all for 10 years and had a good understanding of the side effects, then began reciting them.  She let me go after that. 

Odd. 

I did some personal shopping, not much.  I just needed cat things, garbage bags, and drink mix.  I also got some yogurt. 

When we came home we had the drama with the water on the floor, which I cleaned up.  It really looks like drip pan water.  I'm not too worried about it. 

I have a million things to worry about if it comes to that. 

Ron was ugly but went to his room.  He was threatening to make me "pay him back" for my medication because I was "mean".  I just wanted to clean up the water so I could figure out the problem.  I also didn't want him slipping in it! 

Neither of us have what I would call "good" insurance. 

Ron is very worked up about the Brexit thing.  He seems to think humanity "has" to do A, and then God "can" do B.  I tell him, it doesn't work like that.  God's going to do His thing on His own timeline and what we do is pretty much irrelevant. 

He doesn't listen.

Ron, that is. 

Biscuit in my lap

I had trouble falling asleep last night, so I dragged Torbie to bed with me. She occupied the center of the bed and put me out pretty quick.  I kept hearing Doc in my head telling me I needed to get enough sleep. 

I slept pretty fitfully and woke up a little late.  Biscuit jumped into bed and laid in my lap until I got up, which needless to say was a while later!  He was so sweet laying on my lap as I laid on my back in bed. 

He will never, EVER, get in my lap when I'm upright, but he likes to get in my lap in the morning, sometimes.  It's a nice way to start the day. 

He is such a sweet cat.  Someone clearly loved him before he was dumped with Gravy in the woods. 

I gave him his num-num (Friskies Cat Concoctions Salmon and Chicken Liver, if you're interested, it comes in a purple can), and took my shower, shaved my legs and all that. 

I'm still having my period but not as heavy.  Things seem to be changing up a bit, a couple days of spotting now and then an average flow for a few days, not the old hemorrhage days of my earlier years. 

I remember one day it came early at school, when I was in high school.  I looked as if I'd been murdered, blood all over my sweatpants.  They sent me home. 

Anyway, more standard these days, which is fine.  I do wonder just how long my ovaries will keep functioning. 

We went to work.  Things were pretty depleted and I used up most of my inventory stocking.  I had to help Ron, too.  Ron did return the favor by stocking some pastry.  Pastry goes on the bottom shelf so I have to bend over to do it, but Ron, sitting in his wheelchair, does not. 

Our repairman came and put new valves in the coffee machine.  They were under warranty. 

The visit was free, too.  Awesome.  We offered to pay him but he said no.  OK, we accept. 

Pretty soon it was time to leave.  We had two new drivers today who were pretty stiff, but OK driving at least.  We had straight trips, too. 

I was exhausted and took a nap.  I slept pretty badly because Ron got a phone call and made another one.  I shut his door but it still woke me up. 

No cat, either. 

Torbie is eating the canned food more often now, which I find cute. 

I got emails from two companies: I made orders for stuff online.  The first order was vitamins, stuff that can travel in 100 degree weather.  I also got some nice soap for myself.  Usually, I hate taking my shower, but it's nice to have a lovely bar of soap.  They are very affordable, too, at Swanson Vitamins, nice bars of soap for $2-4 each.  I got three bars, different kinds. 

The second order was more "work" related, evangelism materials: a box of Bible Promise books.  I can hand them out to the drivers.  People like them a lot, they are "easier" than a Bible and mine sure helped when Gravy died. 

We went out to dinner, we have a Checkers near our house.  They have a $4 meal combo that is very good.  We wanted to get a couple and have a cheap meal out. 

We had the same driver we had last week, the one who "stole" the big BBQ dinner plate when we had only offered to buy her a sandwich.  She tried to tell me how good it was and I just changed the subject. 

When we got there, she got out and stood around in the lobby (I had to sit Ron down, his feet hurt a lot if he stands very long), so I just sat at the table until she gave up on us buying something (she was pretty obvious about it) and bought herself something, instead. 

I only told Ron who she was, after she left.  He was furious.  We both remarked on the fact that we could have bought the $4 dinner, for four people, with what we got stuck paying on her dinner. 

Ron then called the head of the program, explained what had happened, and asked to never get her again.  I am sure they will honor the request. 

I thought that was kind of awful to have her ruin our dinner, but we tried to have a good time anyway. 

Our other ride came early but we were ready, so we came home.  I caught Ron examining the tie on Torbie's collar and had to remind him she doesn't get unleashed until tomorrow.  We don't need her chewing her incision.. 

She will be VERY happy, though, to groom herself.  I'm sure she feels filthy. 

I can't imagine how I would feel if I couldn't take a shower for two weeks!  I have been washing her with a wet, warm, washcloth but I'm sure it's not doing the job in her eyes. 

I will be giving her some Laxatone (hairball remedy) before we take off the cone, so she doesn't get a hairball. 

The last thing we need is her back at the vet's office. 

Why we cope

I'm not a theologian.  I'm an evangelist.  I try to share Someone I don't really understand. 

I just saw something on Facebook: someone talking about how God "Delivered" them from "darkness". 

I couldn't help but think about the darkness in my own life and how I'd like deliverance.  How memes like the one I saw could do a lot of harm to believers and unreached. 

Sometimes God does deliver people. I was delivered from abusive "mothering" at an early age. 

I was delivered from complex, mind-bending, head games at an older age. 

I have, for now, been delivered from Ron's blackouts.  He is drinking more responsibly, but he sure hasn't been "delivered" from alcohol.  Maybe part of that - he doesn't want to, yet. 

Yet.  I remain hopeful. 

My cats have been delivered from cast-off, thrown-away, disposals to a cushy home life with adoring humans.  Biscuit and Gravy, if you'll recall, were dumped right next to a very busy road and nearly got squashed a few times before I managed to get them into my bag.  Baby Girl was thrown into our yard at a very young age (about 8 weeks) and left to fend for herself.  She was blessed in that Bubba, our existing cat, was a very gentle and accommodating soul who was happy to welcome her to the family.  If he hadn't been OK with her I would have sent her to the shelter. And, of course, Torbie, dumped at the shelter for "allergies" (they never heard of CLARATIN?), scared and traumatized, just wanting a warm lap and a quiet home. 

Well, they have the good life now.  But, in my life, God hasn't worked that way.  He doesn't pluck us up and put us in a better situation. 

He gives me the tools (I hope) to cope with what I have, but he doesn't take the pain away.  He promises to make all things new, and I sure hang onto that. 

The apostle Paul once said if we (Born-again Christians) are wrong, we are the MOST to be pitied because we have truly wasted our lives. 

I didn't tell you this, but recently I had two encounters with the man who ran over Ron.  During the first, he asked me how Ron was doing and I said OK.  The man then told me he was bringing his motorcycle to work and maybe he could give Ron a ride.  I told him Ron would like that.  We knew this would never happen. 

Compare that to my tirades over the years every time I saw the man, I'd go purple and rant for days.  God delivered me from that because I turned my heart to forgiveness and moving on. 

The second encounter, I was coming out of the "big door" at work and nearly ran over him with my handcart (I was running to get sandwiches).  We had a good laugh over that but I think it helped some at work to realize I really can't drive. 

God has not delivered me from my brain damage.  I work around.  I tell myself I don't have all the expenses of a car owner, but just once I'd like to go to Walmart myself, 5 minutes each way, without paying $30 for a round trip.  I'd like to know I could get home, I don't have to wait on a cab to pick up the trip.  I don't have to ride the bus, I can just go. 

But that has yet to happen.  I'm still "stuck" finding my own way around these things. 

I have to take 8 pills a day, that sure hasn't changed.  In fact, I'm taking more now than ever.  Doc was pretty concerned about me today but I told him I was/am "functional".  I know we both understand what that means: I don't need more, yet.  If I do, I will ask. 

God has never delivered me from my illness, which, as I told Ron, is a lot like "Being on LSD and stuck in a bad horror movie you can't escape".  Or, "The worst nightmare you ever had, except you can't wake up".  My favorite: "You could give me two dozen roses and a winning Lotto ticket, and I'd still be depressed." 

Giving God my soul has not made my life easy by any means.  You have seen that!  I think it's deceptive to imply otherwise.  Now, some people are "cured" of problems when they get saved.  I am happy for them.  But, in my experience, the rule is that you are not spared your problems.  You just have other tools to cope. 

I wrote a series of articles called "How We Cope" on the FAS website.  It talked about living with FAS. 

I think this article should be "Why We Cope".  Well, I cope, I keep plugging along and striving to live a righteous life, so that God will be pleased with me.  I know, when I die or am raptured, I will be taken to paradise and my problems instantly solved.  I will see all my lost loved ones, including many cats, including Gravy, Bubba, and my beloved Frosty. 

To be honest, I think I am looking forward to seeing my "lost" cats more than I am looking forward to seeing most of my "lost" humans. 

Love God?  Still have MAJOR issues?  You are not alone.  God knows I'm not alone in this, which is one primary reason I blog. 

We're just coping the best we can, in the hopes of something better one day. 

Half-damp clothes in the dryer

I woke up tired today.  I think the headache pills mess with my sleep cycle. 

I staggered out of bed, all alone (no cats in my bed), tripping over Biscuit as he had spasms of joy over the forthcoming num-num.  I gave him his can of salmon & liver, then took my shower.  I did my God Time and put Torbie in her box. 

Our driver showed up on time, and I brought wailing Torbie out through the front door.  She's scared of the garage door. 

We got her to the vet and into the exam room.  She settled down when she got her Feliway (it's a cat hormone, kind of like marijuana to some of them). 

Doc came in and examined her, then took out the stitches.  Torbie got a little pissy/hissy at the end of that.  She's a sweet girl but she didn't want anyone messing with her foot! 

Torbie got stuffed back in her box and carried back out to the truck.  No charge to get the stitches out, but we did buy some Feliway. 

The girls like it, but Biscuit hates it.  Torbie has to wear the cone for another couple days, apparently the incision gets very itchy when the stitches come out. 

Torbie was completely silent all the way home.  I went in through the front door and let her out, she ran off down the hall at a pretty good clip.  She was clearly moving better now that the stitches were out. 

I went back out and we got some breakfast.  I had my phone appointment with Doc.  He was concerned when I told him the events of the last couple months.   Gravy was badly hurt and had to be put down, the house nearly flooded, Torbie had to have her surgery.... I didn't even finish before he was lecturing me on the importance of getting enough sleep and taking care of myself.  He knows I have the caregiving on top of all my other issues, as well, and running our own business. 

He kicked our next appointment up to 3 months, from 6.  I can see why he did it.  So there's that.  At least it's not on my birthday. 

I also got my prescriptions "fixed" to 3 months now.  Since I pay for them that won't be a problem. 

We were parked in a grocery store parking lot, so when I finished with Doc (I didn't care the guys overheard me, it was mostly Doc talking anyway), I went in and bought Ron a couple booklets of Metrolift tickets. 

Metrolift has the base area, where travel is "free" if you have a pass (pretty large area), and a "premium" area, where you must present two tickets to travel one way.  Ron likes a couple of restaurants in the premium area (nicer neighborhoods, too), so he likes to have tickets.  Now he does, 33 additional tickets (they are sold in books of 11). 

We'll need to get Ron's new yearly pass in another month or so.  That'll be fun, we have to go downtown for that.  I think we should "borrow" the driver for that. 

It's funny, the last time I went downtown on my own was when I had jury duty back in 2011, I think.  I had a rape case.  Huh, if the guy was convicted (they didn't want me for some reason :( ], he could be out by now. 

I have to admit, I didn't like the defendant, he kept checking out his lawyer's butt as she spoke to the judge.  Very rude and unmannerly.  Considering my underage history with Ron, I don't think I would have been a good candidate anyway. 

But, that's why I have an open Facebook, and I'm sure they checked it.  They saw enough to say "No thanks, not Heather." 

I wonder who refused me, the prosecution or defense?  Or maybe they already had enough jurors, I was "like" juror number 60 or something. 

Anyway, that's the last time I went downtown "for me". 

Ron ate an entire omlette and side of hashbowns.  He said he was up for hours, "burping" trying to digest. 

I was busy with my blueberry pancakes and cheese eggs.  The eggs were OK.  I just ate them because I need iron and protein.  The pancakes were alright but I wouldn't get them again. 

When we got home, I found Torbie asleep at the foot of my bed, on the floor.  I gave her a pat and took a nap for a while, Doc's lecture about getting enough rest fresh in my mind. 

I slept pretty well.  I woke up, clearly "full", but still tired.  Medication really takes a lot out of me, but, like I told Doc, it kept me functional. 

Biscuit spent some of my lap, sleeping with me.  I laid my head on him when I got up and he was purring.  What a sweet boy.  I can't believe someone threw him out like an old can of beer. 

Functional, to me, is defined by doing laundry, taking a shower every day, cleaning the litter box daily, feeding the cats, working, doing my God Time, and blogging 'most every day.  If I can do all that I call it satisfactory. 

Not great, I'm not out there having a lot of "fun" when I am depressed, and Ron has to deal with that, but I am at least functional.  I knew Doc would understand what I meant. 

I need to finish one load of half-damp clothes in the dryer, by the way.   I don't like to run the dryer in the heat of the day, having a heat generator at the same time as an air conditioner just doesn't seem smart. 

When I got up, I got dressed (my favorite nightgown, by the way, is covered in black cats) and brought in the garbage can.  That was the "hard" thing to do, mainly because I had to get dressed and go outside. 

That accomplished, I came back in and listened to Ron complain about "The Butterfly Effect, 2".  Yes, it was a weird movie.  I didn't like it.  He's trying to get through the reservation line to make a cheap hamburger date for us tomorrow night. 

I like cheap hamburgers. 

Terrible

I took a nap after I took my pills today.  The lithium can really wipe me out. 

I slept OK for a while but then I had a nightmare about Gravy getting run over (most likely scenario), and got up, depressed, sad, and exhausted. 

I did my God Time, I didn't do it this morning due to the headache. 

I cleaned up a little, and, when it cools down, will finish the laundry. 

Oh, I still feel terrible about Gravy.  I'm having a hard time with his death because I feel I should have prevented it somehow. 

Post-doc

Yesterday was pretty uneventful.  I woke up with a headache, went to work, did it all, came home, and took a nap.  I got up and did housework. 

I was depressed for all of it. 

Pretty uneventful, except for Torbie getting into my lap during a movie Ron wanted me to watch.  Ron has bad taste in movies and the last one made me cry horribly for poor lost Gravy. 

However, I knew this one was billed as a comedy so I wasn't too worried.  Torbie got in my lap and laid her head on my shoulder, so cute.  I just had to stay there and pet her.  The movie wasn't bad "The Intern".  Torbie left after a while, leaving a nice sprinkling of orange and brown cat hair all over me. 

I went to bed pretty early and, yet again, woke up with a headache at 1 AM.  I haven't "quite" started my period yet, just spotting, so I assume it is hormonal.  I have been pretty careful in what I eat. 

I took some aspirin and went back to bed.  I was able to fall asleep but woke up with a worse headache (just like yesterday) at about 6.  I took some OTC headache pills with caffeine and got up. 

Biscuit was very impatient for his breakfast.  I gave him a can of salmon and chicken liver.  All of them love it.  I've even caught Torbie nibbling. 

I gave them that and took a shower.  When I got out I felt well enough to take my medication.  If I take my medication before the headache pills have worked, I'll vomit and go straight to a migraine, but I can't walk around depressed and hallucinating, either. 

I also noticed my allergies were worse last night, because I had missed a dose of the claratin. 

Torbie didn't sleep with me, either, which made me sad, but I probably smell bad to her and I know I tend to roll over on her. 

She gets her cone off tomorrow, and probably her stitches out, and I know she'll be thrilled.  The vet is really nice and truly loves animals.  She (the vet) thought it was really cute that Biscuit kept purring during his exam. 

I need to decide which flea treatment I am going to use for them in a week or so.  Will I get name brand Advantage, the generic (which seems to work fine), or the generic Frontline?  Decisions, decisions. 

I don't think I have to worry *as much* about fleas because they aren't "really" outside. 

Biscuit was feeling feisty this morning.  He threw up in the hall (he's bulimic), and then took a flying leap at the mouse pad while I was typing, lost his grip, and dug a claw into my right index finger for "balance".  I ended up with a very bloody finger but it doesn't hurt. 

Dad always used to say you didn't have to worry much about cleaning a wound if it bled a lot, and this one sure did.  I washed it with antibacterial soap and put some generic (in case you haven't noticed, I am kind of the generic queen) Neosporin on it.  It should be fine. 

I will just keep taking my Vitamin E so I don't scar. 

Pretty sad, it is so hot I can't even order more Vitamin A online, it would melt in transit.  I have to get it at Walmart. 

I just came back.  I found the name brand Advantage "Large Cat" (mine are definitely) at Walmart so I went ahead and bought it.  I also got the Vitamin A (store brand seems to work OK).  Between that and the protein bars, I had a pretty hefty tab, but Ron paid for it. 

Ron just wanted some "Y" adapters, with two RCA plugs on one end, and a male stereo plug on the other end. 

I bought some chips, and ice cream, but only 2 pints.  I got chocolate for the Vet's staff (always a big hit, whenever I go anywhere medical I bring chocolate), and a case of the liver and salmon canned cat food my guys like so much. 

I also bought some coated Bayer aspirin.  Lithium and friends are very hard on my stomach, so it seems prudent to take an aspirin with a safety coating.  I don't need to eat a hole in my stomach lining from all these headaches. 

We finished it all up with plenty of time to spare.  "That yogurt" I told Ron "Didn't last very long".  So I got some food at McDonald's when we finished.  We ate that, our ride came fast. 

I tried to use the listmaking app on my cell phone.  I finally ended up getting a piece of paper and a pen.  Sometimes the old way works best! 

I had an old (literally) college professor who used to say all computers were "giant pencils", to remember that, and not to let them intimidate us.  "Giant pencils". 

Mine is a giant pencil that has a post-doc in confusion. 

Without them

Oh, a brutal headache today. 

I woke up with it at 1 AM.  I was sleeping with Torbie, very carefully arranged so I wouldn't hurt her paw, or roll over and squash her.  I got up and took some aspirin with a cold soda. 

I went back to sleep.  Woke up at 5:30, it was worse, went back to sleep.  Woke up at 7, it was really bad.  I could take something else by this point, so I took the OTC headache pills (caffeine + Aspirin + Tylenol) with another cold soda (Diet Dew) and went back to sleep. 

I did my God Time.  That's about it so far, other than cat care: I fed the cats, cleaned the box, and wiped Torbie down with a wet washcloth.  She can't groom herself so I do it for her (her private area seems fine, so I just did torso, legs, head, and tail).  She seemed to feel "fresher" after I finished. 

I put my Fire tablet on the charger.  The battery was really low.  I need to remember to charge it more often. 

I am not so good with new technology these days.  The medication can make my learning curve foggy and dim.  Of course, I can't take my antidepressant with this headache or I will go straight to vomiting. 

Oh, I feel like crap.  My period is due today.  I never used to believe that "Get a migraine on the day I start my period" myth until it started happening to me.  My poor reproductive system is trying so hard to stay fertile, when that's the last thing I want. 

I don't want kids.  I don't need a period.  But tell my body that! 

I have been getting spotting for a couple of days first, then it starts, then a shorter "regular" cycle, then all done for another 3 weeks.  Happily it has been highly predictable so I can at least plan my schedule around the headaches, and buy necessary supplies before need. 

Oh, I feel like crap.  I'm going to try to take a shower before I go back to bed.  I hope I can beat this thing sometime today. 

Tomorrow will be a longer day, but I'll get paid (late).  Ron feels horrible he forgot but I had enough money until yesterday.  I bought some chili on clearance at Sam's.  I got a case for our driver (can't beat $2.03 a case), and a couple for us, plus some mints I enjoy (those were more expensive at almost $12 for an 8 pack).  I guess you could say the mints wiped out my budget. 

I like to sleep with a couple of mints in my mouth.  I have a very dry mouth and it helps.  I know I am not "supposed" to do that but I like it and it helps.  They are sugarfree so they won't hurt my teeth. 

Oh, toothpaste.  I don't want to think about toothpaste. 

That reminds me, I need to get my gums scraped pretty soon.  They are getting a little tender.  It is always a horrible procedure but I feel much better once I heal up. 

The whole right side of my head is throbbing.  That's a nasty headache. 

I just thank God for the OTC headache pills.  Things would be a lot worse, without them. 

Saturday

I guess I hope my blog helps other people understand "the struggle".  The struggle with bipolar disorder.  The struggle with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome.  The struggle with caregiving.  The struggle with loving an alcoholic. The struggle with living in a verbally abusive relationship.  The struggle to run your own business.  No wonder I'm so depressed. 

Just typing that makes me tired.  I hope what I write helps people to understand you can get through. 

I'm not going to spout any of that "Life is precious" crap because I don't feel that way when I'm depressed.  I feel like life is a prison sentence and I'm serving my time.

No, I'm not going to do anything.  I just feel tired. 

Last night Ron wanted to have a "big talk" with me.  {sigh}  I told him he has GOT TO STOP with the verbal abuse.  He asked me what he was supposed to say, instead of verbal abuse. 

"I don't like that" I responded. 
"Stop." I replied. 

Oh, OK.  Today at the warehouse a woman "helpfully" left a long string of shopping carts blocking the short path to the tables, I had to walk Ron around.  He was pretty upset, but civil.   He even apologized for losing his temper. 

Later on today, we ordered Chinese food, and I put the cats in the bedroom.  Biscuit was wailing because he didn't like me picking him up.  Ron started yelling at me, saying I cared more about my stomach than the cats, if I weren't so fat....etc. 

So that didn't even last 21 hours.  I'm "supposed" to call my Dad tonight but I don't have it in me to do it.  They want to hear: I'm fine.  They want to hear: Ron is treating me well.  They want to hear: I'm not going to bother you with my problems. 

So, I won't.  I'm miserably depressed, staggering under a huge load, and I can barely figure out my cell phone.  No one can really help me, because, at the end, either I "suck it up" with Ron, or I leave. 

For now, leaving has presented more challenges than staying.  That is subject to change. 

I picked up Torbie (very carefully) and brought her to bed with me last night.  She slept all night (as far as I know) with me.  I didn't sleep very well because I had to be careful of her.  The last thing she needs is a big thigh coming down on her bad paw when I roll over. 

I didn't sleep well, but that's OK because: TORBIE!  I hit my snooze button.  A lot.  Poor Biscuit gave up on his breakfast. 

I got up, fed the cats, and cleaned the litter box.  I took my shower and got dressed.  I wore one of my performance t-shirts so I could breathe while I worked.  We went to the warehouse.  I got a lot of snack machine items.  It was a bitch loading them into the truck, lots of small pieces, but, like our driver said, "At least they're light".  The heaviest snack items is probably 5 pounds. 

I put all the chocolate in the cab, with the air conditioning.  The driver was OK with that. 

We went to work.  I got the carts and unloaded all the snacks.  It didn't look too bad and I got it all onto the carts.  I went and stocked.  I helped Ron.  I was pretty busy. 

They had Law & Order, SVU; on the TV like they always do.  Talk about depressing stuff.  At least it wasn't Orlando coverage. 

I am very sorry for the victims and families.  I know how awful it is to sit in that waiting room, waiting for news. 

I don't think I'm as horrified as other people, though.  For me, nothing is ever going to beat watching that gunman at my Dad's office when I was 13 years old, watching people carried out in body bags, unable to reach my father (no cell phones back then and he had the radio off), wondering if Dad was in a body bag, wondering for hours....

I don't think any event is going to "beat" that for horror unless I am personally involved in a live-shooter event.  In that case, if at work I will hide in the stockroom if I can't flee.  If I'm at Walmart, good luck. 

I hope you never experience anything like that.  It was hell, and not surprisingly, threw me into a suicidal depression.  I had to spend a month at the hospital and I was still suicidal when I got out.  So they put me on double doses of antidepressants and made me manic, but they couldn't see it.   So I became full blown bipolar, forced into manias by an antidepressant that didn't work.  I was still suicidal!  They finally took me off it years later. 

I wonder how much damage it did to my brain.  I don't blame my parents for that one, they were told this was the only thing.  For whatever reason, the medical professionals didn't see my manias.  It was just all around hell for everyone. 

I finally finished up at work.  We left.  We had to wait outside in the heat, sun, and humidity for over an hour because our driver was "stuck in traffic" (although no one told us this).  They kept saying he'd be there in 10 minutes, 10 minutes, 10 minutes. 

I felt like a baked potato when I got in the vehicle.  We had a straight trip home so that wasn't bad.  I was happy to go home, not so happy to see a strange vehicle in front of #6. 

I was worried they were going to do more construction, but they didn't.  I just took a nap for an hour or so, set an alarm, and rounded up the cats after we ordered our takeout.  The food came pretty fast and it was good. 

It's the first time I had orange chicken.  I liked it.  I used to love garlic chicken but I am allergic to garlic now - not severely, but enough that I get a headache if I consume it.  The orange chicken was just orange juice, hot pepper, and corn starch.  Like I said, good. 

I watched a little TV and checked my Facebook.  Ron is asleep so all is peaceful. 

I plan to go to bed as soon as I can. 

"Oh, they're paying for it!"

I need to explain something to you first. 

We ride paratransit, a special carpool service for people with severe disabilities (like Ron) who are unable to ride the bus.  I couldn't get my own service because I do ride the bus on my own. 

Anyway, the fleet is comprised of two groups, the "short bus" contract drivers, who drive the large van with the wheelchair lift on the side, and the contract cab drivers who drive minivan cabs.  Both sets of drivers are basically cab drivers with special training on how to handle people with disabilities and secure their equipment so it doesn't get loose and crush someone when they're changing lanes.  Those power wheelchairs can be heavy.  They answer to a dispatcher and have a schedule of trips they must keep. 

We usually ride in the contract cabs.  Occasionally, since Ron is "ambulatory" (that's stretching it, but it basically means "not using a wheelchair") they will send a regular cab.   Those are usually African or Latino immigrants who teach us interesting phrases.  I can say "Thank you" two ways in Yoruba, a Nigerian dialect. 

Yesterday Ron and I had regular paratransit cab to go to the BBQ place.  When the driver heard where we were going, she said she had never eaten brisket (???) and dropped heavy hints about us buying her something. 

Ron's a pretty generous guy, after all, he just bought me a new call phone and let me pick it out (I went with the $20 model).  He told her he would buy her a brisket sandwich.  She was very excited.  He told her sandwich, several times. 

When we got to the place she ran ahead of us in line.  When I caught up to her, they were putting the sides on her to-go brisket plate, which costs twice as much as the sandwich.  When she got to the checkout, she pointed at me and said "They're paying for it" with a smirk. 

I am furious.  We agreed to buy her a $6 sandwich not 3/4 of a pound of meat with two sides and bread. It cost $15. 

For some people, that's their entire budget to dine out. 

Rude, rude, rude. 

Yes, we paid for it, because the company would have lost money if we hadn't.  But I told Ron:

We are never buying a driver BBQ again. 

Worn out

"Ron" I hissed at him as we stood at work "I will not tolerate verbal abuse.  You stop it, or I will leave you!"

I got up at 2 AM, with a headache.  I took a shower and went to work anyway.  I helped Ron as much as possible while doing my own work.  He hasn't had a complaint about my end of things in a very long time. 

I dealt with the phony refund lady, who ate nearly an entire bag of Hot Fries before deciding "They were stale".  I showed her the expiration date, in November.  She demanded another bag. 

"I thought they were stale" I replied, realizing she just wanted a free bag of chips. 

"Fine then" she said "Give me my money".  I was not about to give her another bag of chips to eat, then decide "They were stale" and ask for her money anyway.  I have plenty of customers who LOVE the product. 

When I told Ron about it, he approved.  A while later he called me "worthless" for some reason.  Then a "bitch". 

That's when I had my little talk with him.  I told him no matter how upset he is, verbal abuse is NOT OK and it needs to stop if he wants to remain married.  I was clearly upset but not reactive. 

He told me [verbal abuse] was his "First Amendment right" and I "couldn't control him, bitch."  I told him verbal abuse made me feel bad and I was sure he didn't want to do that. 

"If you're fucking up" he replied "You deserve to hear it."  I was just so disgusted.  AM disgusted. 

One of the custodians came up to me, and this is such an example of the hypocrisy: he was all concerned.  I told him I had just endured some verbal abuse and I was a little upset. 

"Who did that?  They can't do that here!"  I told him it was Ron. 

"Oh, he didn't mean it". 

Yes, he did. I thought. 

It was totally wrong if someone else did it, but if it's Ron, that's OK.  I'm not sure whether it's because he is crippled, or my husband, but whatever it is seems to give him a free pass. 

When he makes a mistake, I NEVER name-call.  I just try to figure out how to fix it, whatever it is.  I would never flog him verbally. 

I went from one verbally abusive situation to another, but I have to say Ron is far worse.  I so wish I could go back in time, sometimes, and warn myself to run. 

I work very hard and don't appreciate him pissing on my hard work.  I try very hard to be pleasant and accommodating.  I always rush to help him when he starts bellowing for me.  I work with one eye behind my back watching him for any sign he needs help. 

And he calls me a stupid bitch.  Or worse, a "blank". That's what he does, he uses the word "blank" instead of "bitch" so I can't complain about that.  It's possible someone called him on that and that was his response. 

He never listens to any opinions or advice I have, I am "harming" him when I do that even if he takes the advice.  I just offer the opinion or whatever and leave it up to him. 

And my phone is dead! 

I tell you, at least I got a good nap.  All medication is on board.  Torbie napped with me and we had a good time.  Even Biscuit got onboard at the last minute. 

The air conditioner is working and I'm going out to dinner, but I am worn out. 

"It must be nice"

I wish I could say my Day out went really well. 

Ron gave me enough money for a one-way cab.  I called one of our drivers, who was local.  He took me to the hair place.

I got my "hair did".  As it turns out, I have a very low hairline in the back (down to the back of my neck).  It is a "feature" of Fetal Alcohol Syndrome.  Because of it, she explained, she couldn't cut my hair as short.  She could, but she'd have to shave my neck. 

I wasn't interested in that so I just left her to do it.  A guy came in after me and she went right to him after finishing with me. 

I will say my hair is a lot better, I just wish I didn't have to compromise.  Oh well, I can say my hair is a lot "better" than some. 

It's always behaved and it has a nice wave and color, even with the graying brown, it doesn't look bad. 

We got some good news before I left.  Ron called the vet to see if he could take the cone off Torbie.  They said no (thank God) but they did say it would be fine to bring her in next week instead of the week after.  I guess they are under-booked.  He set that up and was put on the line with someone (probably Doc) who told him the pathology reports came back for Torbie, she does not have cancer, "it wasn't bad" whatever it was, and they had gotten the entire thing so it wouldn't come back.  Good. 

To celebrate, I took some photos. 

You can't see her foot but you get the general idea.  She looks like it's a bonnet. 

Pretty cute! 

She has two orange legs and two brown ones.  You can see that in the lowest photo.  On her back legs, they are reversed, so the surgery leg is orange and the "intact" leg is brown. 

Ron was pretty sweet with her, but he started talking enough to scare me:
1.  Maybe I shouldn't eat.  It will inhibit the alcohol soaking in and I won't get as drunk.  (He ate anyway)

2.  If you're gone, it won't matter if I have a blackout. 

3.  I wanted to watch your TV but I couldn't find the remote.  [I don't want a drunk man operating my television]

He didn't bother me much while I was gone but he did send me a text message. 

I so wish I could have found a caregiver group in Houston.  Why, you may ask? 

Well, it's exhausting taking care of someone else.  In some ways Ron is the toddler that will never grow up.  Except this one drinks and has blackouts.  I am always putting him first, always conditioned to do that. 

Then I walk into the fast food place and get the whole "Where's Ron" routine.  I explained I needed a day to myself to prevent caregiver burnout. 

"OH" he said in a sarcastic voice "It must be nice having a whole day to run around."

If you don't have personal time that is your problem.  YOU are the one who went into restaurant management, a notorious field for working you to death.  YOU are the one who got married and had kids.  You got to choose all of that. 

The only choice I had was take Ron or let him go to a nursing home.  I made my choice and I stand by it.  Although I do wonder where I would be right now if I hadn't. 

But it's probably better I don't know. 

I was really hurt by that.  My lunch didn't go down very well after that.  I did take my pills, bitterly wondering if he ALSO had mental illness on top of his other problems like I do.  And brain damage, can't forget that.  I can't forget that everytime I want to go somewhere and have to take a cab or bus. 

I went to a dollar store.  Ron had mentioned he wanted AAA batteries so I found some on sale and bought him a couple packages.  They really were 16 for $1.  I hope they are long-lived. 

I bought myself some peanut butter candy.  It was good.

I walked all the way back to the Starbucks on the corner after deciding to skip Mardel.  I didn't want to face questions about Ron and why we took the vending machine.  (It didn't have any sales and they were pretty demanding about it - some of them, at least). 

I started walking back.  It was oppressively hot, humid, and sunny.  It must have had a heat index well over 100.  I entertained myself by wondering whether it was more like walking on a skillet, or a griddle?  I decided a griddle, because they are larger.  I passed a couple of "nice" restaurants. 

I passed an ice cream shop.  I haven't had ice cream in probably 10 years, at least not at a shop.  I decided to take a look.  It was the same chain Dad used to take me to when I was a "good little girl".  I used to love those treats. 

I decided on the lemon custard.  I love lemon. 

I got it in a waffle bowl.  It was an extra dollar but I was OK with that.  It was delicious.  I sat there listening to music on my headphones and eating ice cream, Jesus Metal blaring in my ears. 

Do you know they recently came out with a study that says heavy metal helps with depression?  Not the light metals I take like lithium, but {sticking tongue out}... pretty cool. 

I only got one scoop.  I had just had a burger, half a medium fries, and some peanut candy.  I didn't have to worry about my pills, that's for sure. 

They need something solid so I don't get sick.  I had that. 

I got back to the Starbucks and called the cab driver, who basically told me to find my own way home.  [Bad Word]  I saw a bus out of the corner of my eye and I bolted for it. 

I caught it and got home in about an hour.  Not too bad considering and probably faster than calling another cab.  If I can save money, I will. 

If the bus is right in front of me, I'll take it.  That one only leaves once an hour so I got "lucky". 

I did have to stand in the sun at a bus stop for about 20 minutes.  Not fun.  There was some shade but it was away from the stop. 

Now, people from Houston will wait half a block away, in the shade, and expect the bus to stop.  When I lived in CA, I had to be at the stop, looking at the driver, indicating I wanted to ride, or he would pass me up.  These people would do really bad in CA. 

So, as a habit, and because I would rather wait in the sun for 20 minutes than wait in the shade, and sun, for 50 minutes, I wait in the sun and wave at the driver. 

I don't know how that works in other locales.  Maybe you can tell me.  Do you stand at the stop and wave, like me?  Or do you lounge in the shade, a dozen yards away, like the "natives?"

The bus was pretty packed.  Good, they won't be cutting service anytime soon. 

I got off at my stop with 2 other people.  I had some trouble with my MP3 player and fiddled with it for a moment, letting them get ahead.  It was stuck on "Old Time Religion" and wouldn't budge.  I finally turned it off.  The player is looking pretty old and I will need to retire it eventually.  I think I'll get another cheap one, just if I ever get stuck in the hospital I'll have something to listen to without running down my phone. 

I walked home, it wasn't too bad.  We had some breezes and trees in the subdivision. 

I checked the mail, emptying a bunch of trash, it looks like.  I don't check it as much since we put the cats on inside. 

When I got in, I gave Ron his mail (talking books), and threw the rest in the chair.  I took a nap and had very strange dreams, but at least I got some sleep.  I have to go to bed in half an hour and get up at 2 AM. 

Scar tissue

I went to bed pretty early last night and woke up, at 6, with a headache.  I took some pepto, some aspirin, and drank some cold diet soda (my go-to).  I didn't want caffeine, much at least, because I didn't want to affect my sleep patterns tonight.  Ron did remember to call in the soda order so I have to get up at 2 AM tomorrow.  Eek.

I had slept pretty well, except for Torbie.  She decided to occupy the entire center of my bed.  I prefer to sleep on my left side with my knee drawn up in front of me.  Nope.  Torbie's bad paw was right where I'd put my knee, not to mention Torbie was right in the middle of the bed. 

I managed to sleep regardless but it was rather fitful, as I couldn't assume my "ideal" positions and had to worry about rolling over on Torbie.  We should all be so lucky to have these problems, and I mean that. 

Biscuit is a much better boy, he sleeps alongside one leg when he sleeps with me, which is occasionally. 

After I went back to sleep, I had a horrible nightmare.  I was living in a modification of my old childhood house, with Ron.  It was much bigger and nicer, though, the kitchen was half the size of my current house (I do wish I had a little more room in the kitchen, when Ron's in there on his mobility device he takes up the entire floor space - or maybe I just wish Ron would stay out of the kitchen!).  Ron was running water to take a bath and I was decluttering.  I had a lot of "stuff" and I was trying to go through it to get the place more structured. 

And Ron was at his verbally abusive finest.  He was horrible to me, and I kept encouraging him to go take his bath but he wouldn't. 

Then I realized, when he had the water on for his bath, other shower heads (at least 2 more) were running as well.  Then I woke up. 

When I got up, I used the toilet and looked in on Ron, as I didn't see Torbie anywhere.  She was lying alongside him, under his arm, totally happy.  That was kind of odd for me, after my dream. 

It made me realize, even if God turned Ron into the perfect husband, as I type, I would still have so much scar tissue it would affect our lives forever. 

It's ironic, Ron used to have nightmares about me, and wake up furious at me.  In the dreams, a 'bad guy" was after us.  I would "screw up and do something stupid" and Ron would know the bad guy was going to get us, then he would wake up.  He always used to get so angry at me, even awake he'd be yelling at me. 

I didn't much care for the whole "You're a f-up who got us killed" attitude, either.  How come he never had nightmares about me leaving him?  He should have. 

The other day he was listening to love songs and telling me how much he loved me.  I couldn't help but think:

"Is that before you called me a stupid bitch, or after?" 

I didn't say it. 

Frito Pie

I didn't sleep well last night, Torbie made a lot of noise with her "cone".  She kept banging it and scratching at it.  I guess she is feeling well enough to use the foot now. 

I imagine it's a relief to get the tumor off, too. 

Sometime in the middle of the night, Ron and Torbie figured out a way for her to eat treats, and food, out of his hand.  She is very happy about this. 

I saw her drink water so I feel good about that.  I also saw her use the box. 

I slept late, got up and took my shower, did my God Time later.  Our driver is feeling better so he met us at Sam's Club.  They had water which necessitated a 30 case purchase for me (10 water, 20 other drinks).  I hardly got any snacks. 

I put the drinks in the cart, in the truck, on the cart, and into the facility.  I stocked what I could (it was slow, and I didn't have much inventory), while Ron did what he could (drinks were also pretty slow). 

We had enough time to get it all done, even the coffee vending machine. 

Then it was onto home.  I took a nap and had some odd dreams. 

I got up and dressed, did my God Time, and we went to Walmart. 

Ron (!) ate leftover breakfast from yesterday and got sick.  He was very unhappy.  I left him up front near the bathroom (later on, a woman scolded me for "abandoning" him).  They didn't have any kiddie carts available, I couldn't bring him with me.  I had to leave him. 

But tell that to people.  Everyone wants to tell me how to take care of Ron, but no one wants to do it themselves. 

I mainly needed housecleaning stuff, floor wipes, disinfecting wipes, detergent, etc.  I also got another pair of knit shorts and some underwear.  I verified I "can't" bleach my socks (who knew? but I only did it once), and got some zip ties to "tie off" my hose faucet out front. 

Years ago, the second little boy at #2 played with my hose one day while I was gone.  Water everywhere in my yard.  Not only that, one of the muslim drivers felt he could help himself to my hose to do his ceremonial, 5x a day, washings. 

I don't want people worshipping false gods right outside my kitchen window, AND wasting my water in the process.  He "got permission" by asking if he could "wash his hands before lunch".  I didn't have a problem with a one-time sanitary hand washing.  I had major issues with the mumbo jumbo, every day of the year.  I was furious.  So, I use the zip tie to keep that from happening again. 

I (or someone) can get it off pretty easily, but if a person comes up on it and wants to turn it, they can't.  It's a good compromise and invisible from the street. 

Unfortunately I have a very visible hose.  So, I got that, it's on again. 

Did I tell you about the vanishing puke?  When our driver got sick on Monday he vomited all over my driveway.  I tried to hose it off, but it wouldn't budge.  It looked like I would need to get a pressure washer and the guy wanted to charge $75. 

I can BUY a pressure washer at Sam's for $200. 

Ron even mentioned he was blind.  I hope the guy goes out of business, overcharging like that.  $75 to do a driveway?  No way. 

So, I went out to look last night and it was gone.  I have no idea what happened.  The driver mentioned maybe a dog got it.  I don't know. 

All I do know it is gone and I don't have to pay $75 for it to be fixed.  Nice. 

I had a good nap with Biscuit.  That was great.  He likes to lay on my legs and stretch out under the vent, which hits the foot of my bed. 

I didn't have Torbie in the bed last night or during my nap today. 

I got Ron some Fritos (but I didn't tell him) because he mentioned he wanted to have some Fritos and chili, a grand old Texas tradition.  They put Fritos in a bowl, put hot chili on top, top it with onions (sometimes) and grated cheese (always, but it is very messy for Ron so not for him).   I always ate mine with a spoon.  It's very good.  They call it "Frito Pie". 

When he feels better he will be very happy to find them in front of his microwave.  He swore he didn't drink today so I guess his stomach is just generally irritated.  You can't drink 80 proof liquor, straight, and have a happy stomach. 

Maybe that's what will get him to stop drinking, stomach trouble. 

We got home and I put everything away.  Since today was pretty rough (Ron was lashing out at me, at Walmart, when he was sick), I ate a pint of Blue Bell ice cream (cookies and cream, I love it and it doesn't give me headaches). 

I also ate some chips.  Between the heat and PMS, I have been craving a lot of salt lately. 

I have tomorrow off but I have to be in bed by 6 PM, because we have a soda delivery on Friday.  I hope Ron remembered to call it in. 

Purr-imeter

You probably have a good feel for my personal and political views by now. 

You can imagine what I thought of a day where I had to ride with a muslim cab driver "I am fasting!", forced to listen to left-wing "news" propaganda about the shooting, AND was forced (by nature of working in close proximity to 2 televisions set on news stations), to listen to the entire presidential speech. 

Now, the Bible says, don't even curse the ruler in your thoughts, and the New Testament says we are to treat them with respect.  I will say, as I endured, I thought of a long list of unpleasant things I would rather do than listen to the speech. 

I got up on time, took my shower, talked to Ron about Torbie, who was very droopy.  She did sleep with me last night in the bed, the purr-imeter seemed to work pretty well.  I rolled up a blanket as a barrier so I wouldn't squash her. 

She seemed very depressed.  I was worried about her, but Ron said she had eaten treats.  I also saw her drink water so I wasn't worried about that. 

Later on, I "caught" her using the litter box, the one they like with the unscented litter.  When I get manic (ah, the song of my life "When I get manic, I will....") I will dump out the old boxes with the scented litter and swap it out for unscented. 

So, Torbie was OK.  She was limping but not as bad as yesterday. 

Her foot looks like she had surgery but that's to be expected.  Nothing alarming.  Doc did give her a long acting antibiotic shot so I'm not worried.  She's not acting sick, either, after that "contact" with the sick kitten at the checkout desk so hopefully whatever the other cat had wasn't contagious. 

If it was, I'm hoping the antibiotic shot will eliminate any problem. 

Here's a good example of my life: Ron just told me he was cold and he wanted me to turn off his fan and the thermostat.  I told him I was busy.  He said "OK" in a manner that indicated he expected me to do it. 

I got up and did what he wanted, then I asked if there was anything else he wanted while I was up, because I was busy and did not want to be interrupted again.  He got all pissy with me, I'm not helping him, I'm a bad helper, he hopes I end up disabled with someone like me, etc. 

Next time I will just ignore him until he gets up and does it himself. 

Back to my day.  Ron has this obsession with Pepsi lately.  It is one of our worst-selling sodas, comparable to the orange soda we eliminated a few years ago.  Pepsi reformatted the packaging, making them too large to fit into a vending machine. 

But you can get the "old" size at Walmart.  Twice now, in a week, Ron has dragged us to Walmart to buy these stupid drinks. 

When I told him I needed Walmart tomorrow, after work, he got mad at me and said I had gone just today. 

"That was your trip"  I told him.  "That doesn't count".  What is the point of going to the store if I am limited to one small bag of merchandise during my visit?  I spent $20, and most of that was a box of energy bars. 

I did buy some 10 mg generic Claratin (Loratadine) and a pill cutter.  I can cut them in half and put them in my pill organizer.  I also got my prescriptions. 

Ron didn't offer to pay, and I didn't ask.  $70 for one month is pretty steep, though.  I need to get back to my 3 month refills.  One of his interns "helped" by "fixing" my prescription to 3, one month prescriptions.  It will remain that way until Doc edits the prescription and fixes it back to 3 month. 

A 3 month is about $140.  3, one months, are about $210.  That's a lot of money. 

We got picked up by a cab driver who took us to work.  I think he was Hindi.  He had a bottle of water in the console so he wasn't muslim.  They have to fast this month. 

I wonder how many people get really sick due to that stupid rule?

That's the great thing about being a born-again Christian.  We are to repent (turn from our sin) and "live lives worthy of repentance" - walk the walk.  We are to respect our spouse (!), respect our leaders, and help those we can. 

No fasting.
No ritual prayer (although I find my God Time very peaceful)
No forced charity
No ritual washing.
No special trips to the holy city
No special clothes
No hatred of other religions, just try to show them the good in ours, and pray for them regardless. 

I think I have it pretty easy, actually. 

 We got to work.  Snacks were pretty bad so I was busy fixing them up.  Then I worked on the coffee machine. 

For some, unfathomable, reason, the sandwich company sent us a whole load of sandwiches without the expiration date. 

Now, I write the expiration dates for the pastry, one month after the date of purchase or whatever date is on the box (the earlier date).  When I did the sandwiches, some of them, I gave them a one-month code. 

The customers know they are not good for a month.  No one touched them.  I had to throw them out because I would not have been able to get the labels off, and even if I had it would have been obvious I took off one sell by date and put on another. 

Faith is a fragile thing with the customers.  I would rather throw out $10 worth of product than lose their faith. 

That meant I had to get out the labels and label the remaining product to "expire" on Friday.  It took forever.  Then I had to stock them.  Hopefully people won't be afraid of them now. 

I did explain to someone, I was pretty medicated when I did those labels, I hope the customers understand, I threw them out in your dumpster, I hope that was OK.  It will get around. 

Then I had to service the coffee vending machine.  I emptied the yuck bucket and threw away the grounds.  I wiped it out and closed it up again. 

Ron needed help so I helped him with his stuff. 

I think that's the thing he doesn't understand, he thinks I'm supposed to be standing by waiting to help him at any moment of the day, even if it's something he can do himself (like adjust the thermostat).  That I have no personal desire to do anything but help him.  I only got up because Torbie was laying next to him. 

I did it for Torbie, not for him.  She is a lot perkier and more loving than she was this morning.  I'm glad to see it. 

We finally finished up.  We left, taking out plastic "will hold four 6-packs of Pepsi" case with us as we left.  Ron knocked it on the floor.  So much for my purse. 

When we got outside (at the last second, which is what Ron always does), we had a "import" looking driver.  I offered him some of my candy (Peanut butter M&M's) and he refused, telling me he was fasting.  I said Oh, OK. 

I sat there thinking about the shooting and wondering what he thought about it.  I wondered what he would say if he found out I do evangelism.  I wondered what he thought of my capri pants. 

I did chatter with him on the way home, though, so it was OK.  I try to assume everyone is "OK" unless they are clearly not. 

When we got in, I put the stuff away and took a nap.  I slept about an hour and a half, then got up. 

I need to clean out the fridge and take out the garbage, it's pretty full.  I also need to clean the litter box before I take out the trash.  I always strive for a fresh litter box. 

I also need to figure out dinner and do up my pills.  I need to make a vitamin order, too. 

Our driver is feeling better so we will see him tomorrow.  Good.  I hope it was just something simple like an ear infection.